Cocktail of Colors
by Ryuchu
Summary: It had been so easy to slip into the ever tantalizing vices. Drugs, alcohol, lovers; when one started to bore her, she would simply turn to the other. When she's suddenly cut off, Luka's got to learn to adjust to the dull reality of life.


**A/N:** I'm...not quite sure what this is. It was rather fun to write though, even if it is a little dark. Anyways, this is kind of short (by my standards), but still, I would love to know what you think. Who knows; maybe I'll come back to this some day. I hope you enjoy! ^^

Also, do you think this needs an M rating? I don't really think so, but, maybe it does?

* * *

She hit the wall; hard.

A twisted grin worked its way on to her face as dull pain shot through her entire body. She couldn't help but give a deep, throaty laugh as her shoulder continued to throb; the pain meant only one thing to the young woman.

It was time for her to take more.

Hauling herself off the wall, she made her way unsteadily down the obnoxiously sterile hallway. If it wasn't for the framed family photos hung perfectly in line or the fact that the walls were composed of plaster rather than brick, the hallway could have easily been part of an insane asylum.

The young woman was aware of none of these things as she continued her perilously tipsy journey. Her bleary eyesight was fixated on the door at the end of the hallway; her ultimate goal.

Her hazy mind wasn't sure how long it took her to reach the door – it could have been minutes, it could have been hours – but eventually her slim hand gripped the cold, brass doorknob and she leaned heavily on the door, causing it to open under the pressure of her weight.

Stumbling slightly into the dimly lit room, she headed for the dresser next to her bed.

Top draw, left side, underneath a textbook from some college course she couldn't remember anything about, in a seemingly harmless mint container.

Even in her compromised state, her fingers didn't hesitate or stumble for a moment as she opened the drawer and grabbed the mint container.

A mockery of a smile working its way on to her face, she deftly opened the mint container and dumped out several pills of varying size, color, and shape into her waiting palm. As she looked down at the carnival of swirling colors resting on her palm, her twisted grin further distorted her face.

"A hope cocktail," She said aloud to no one and yet everyone as she rolled the pills in her palm, "down it all and join the carnival ride. The swirling, turning colors that have never lied; down it all and join the carnival ride."

She repeated the words over and over and over again, her voice low and serious as her words formed into a chant directed to whichever god cared to listen to her. Once the proper rituals were observed, she lifted her hand to her lips and allowed the sacred blood that sustained her to slip into her mouth. She was supposed to swallow the pills, but she had learned over the years that they took effect quicker if they were chewed.

Once the sweet, candy coatings on the pill were destroyed, the remainder in her mouth tasted like a chalky wafer. Even after engaging in this ritual an untold number of times, it made her want to gag. Instead of giving into her reflex, she swallowed the pills because she knew that through them alone, salvation can be found.

Satisfied that the carnival would start soon, she collapsed face-down on her bed and closed her eyes. Her nostrils inhaled the still linger smell of human sweat, and other, more intimate, scents. At one point, she had been using this bed for her nightly escapades with her lovers. It was a different person every night; it didn't matter if it was a boy or a girl, only that they filled the ragging hunger inside her.

It had been fun at the time. She had enjoyed the different flavors of the individuals she spent the night with. It had been like a buffet of sweet delights; take one and then come back for something completely different the next time. Some tasted like cake, others like Jell-O, others like soft caramel candies, and still others like tooth-rotting lollipops.

But after time, the sweets lost their appeal, and the young woman found reality sinking back into her world of delights. She knew that she couldn't go back to reality; fantasy was far too addicting for her to turn back. She would just have to find something new; something stronger than the sweets provided by other people.

Salvation came in the form of alcohol.

It was different than the nights she had spent with her lovers. The lovers had all tasted sweet and tame to her, but the alcohol had a hint of danger. It couldn't be charmed with sweet words the way people could. It could be strong, it could be weak, it could be sweet, it could be sour. The danger was something new, something intriguing. She became more and more enamored with the sacred liquid day by day.

Alcohol was like a poker game. You had to judge your opponent, make the right decisions, call their bluffs; it wasn't just pure chance, skill was also highly valued. There was also the distinct possibility that she would fail and the thought only thrilled her further.

But even the danger of alcohol began to dull.

Then she found the pills; the pills kept in a mint tin that would allow her to travel to the land of dreams, the land of carnivals. She loved it, she loved it, she loved it.

The rides would start up soon; the roller-coasters that make your heart race, the carousels that make you laugh with childish delight, the thrill rides that make your head spin and your stomach hurt. Already, she could feel her body tensing in anticipation.

"…Luka?"

The thin voice that issued from the doorway tore apart her feeling of bliss more effectively than any explosion ever would have. Luka rose methodically from her prone position on the bed and turned to look for the source of the voice.

"…SeeU…" Luka responded once she identified her sister, her voice sounding sluggish and slow, even to her own ears. A part of her was indignant with her little sister; the carnival was starting, she was going to miss all the fun. The other part of her wanted to invite the young girl to join her. Why should her sister be forced to live in the gray of reality when there was a world of colorful ecstasy only a handful of pills away?

"Uhm…Dad was looking for you…" The girl managed to squeak out from where she stood at the door, completely oblivious to her sister's inner monologue about whether to offer her the pills or not, "He wants to talk to you about…uhm…last night."

Instead of focusing on the words, Luka focused on the fact that SeeU was intentionally pausing. The girl never used to stutter, but now any time she addressed Luka, her voice barely rose above a whisper and she sounded as if she was carefully selecting each word in order to cause the least amount of damage.

"I can't right now, I'm not home," Luka responded before she fell back on her bed and closed her eyes. Already she could see the colorful lights dancing behind her eyes, enticing her to enter into a colorful, unknown world.

"B-But he knows where you are!" SeeU protested instantly, "He knows that you're home and you're up in your room!"

"Tell him I'm busy."

"B-But you're not…"

"Lie."

Even though her eyes were closed, Luka could hear her sister shift uncomfortably. Lying to their father was a grave offense that had once scared both girls into strict obedience to the rules. When she was younger – it seemed a lifetime ago – Luka would have balked much the same as her younger sister just had. But now, she had been lying so long that it had become easier than telling the truth.

Oh him? We're just studying together for the biology exam we have on Friday.

Her? She was absent from class and wanted to copy my notes. It shouldn't take too long; no more than an hour, promise.

Yeah, you wouldn't believe how many textbooks this stupid school gives me. I can't even carry them all by hand. I have to shove them in shopping bags.

I read somewhere that mints help you concentrate when you study, and since final are coming up I thought it would be a good idea to stock up on some.

When the lies stopped working, she simply waited until her father left or had gone to bed until she indulged her pleasures. It was easy to get around the old man; he was far too busy with his business to pay much attention to his two dowry obligations.

"You know I can't lie to him Luka…" She heard her sister finally respond from the doorway, "He'll…uhm…he'll…"

"That's enough SeeU. I can take it from here."

The new voice that entered the conversation was strong, commanding. The younger of the two sisters squeaked at the sound of the voice, whereas the only change that came over the older sister was a twisted smile working its way on to her lips.

"Get up out of bed," he commanded in his deep, booming voice, "Now!"

Smile still in place, Luka raised herself from her bed and met her father's eyes. He was livid. Under normal circumstances, she would have been terrified; an expression like that meant she was lucky if she got off with just a beating. But her heart rate was spiked; she had just finished riding an adrenaline-laden roller-coaster and the effects had yet to fade. She was invincible; she could stand up to anything and everything.

"You've been lying to me for years," He father accused, his barely contained rage threatening to break at any moment, "You've been whoring yourself out, you've been killing your liver with alcohol, and now you're destroying your mind with drugs!"

Luka couldn't help but laugh. It was such a typical response from her father! He wasn't concerned about her, he was concerned about her destroying a product he could make use of! If she was a drunken, drug-addicted, whore, she made a far less tantalizing prize to marry off to the highest bidder.

Laughter was the wrong answer.

With a terrifying crack, Luka felt her father's fist connect with her face. She was vaguely aware of the sound of SeeU gasping in the background, but all she could concentrate on was the pain; the pain and the colors. The colors were friendly, safe. The pain was terrifying.

She needed…she needed more of the colors!

She began to crawl – to claw – her way to the dresser.

Top draw, left side, underneath a textbook from some college course she couldn't remember anything about, in a seemingly harmless mint container.

She had to get there! She had to get there!

Pain ripped at the back of her head and she was pulled away from the dresser that contained salvation. She struggled, she yelled, she kicked. She needed the colors! She needed the sweet things in life! Reality is too much! She can't face it!

The hand that pulled her dragged her away from the safety and comfort she had grown accustomed to over the years. She continued to struggle and scream as she was dragged through the asylum-like walls, down the narrow stairs, and towards the back of the house. She felt a cold blast of early autumn air as her father opened the back door of their house. Luka wanted to laugh again; even now he was trying to save face by ensuring that no one saw him throwing his daughter away.

The pain at the back of her head stopped suddenly as she was thrown like a rag doll. She landed hard on her right arm as her body collapsed onto the brickwork of their back porch. She took a sharp intake of breath. It hurt! It hurt so damn bad!

"You are no longer welcome here. I will not have a daughter that is a whore defiling my name."

The doors slammed and Luka could do nothing but stare at the brick beneath her. When she closed her eyes, she could still see the colors, but they were spinning far too rapidly for her to grasp and enjoy. Everything was terrifying chaos.

After an unknown amount of time passed, she lifted her eyes from the deck and saw her sister staring at her through a window. Her eyes were dry, devoid of tears, but anguish was painted clear on her face. Anguish and one more, much stronger, emotion: Hatred.

_You've left me to my death_, her eyes screamed at her older sister,_ Now he only has one child to blame; only one child to beat. He's going to kill me!_

Luka's mind couldn't help but conjure the memory of their childhood. The two of them had worked out a system of sorts. They would take turns performing "bad" things in order to let the other sister recover from the beating they had received. They had watched out for one another and they had survived. Would SeeU be able to survive on her own?

The question was quickly crowded out by more pressing and alarming matters. The colors- the colors were starting to fade! She had to get more!

Ignoring the pain that was gradually increasing as the colors faded and cradling her right arm, she stood and began to hobble away from the dark reality of a sister she had just condemned to death. But wasn't that what she always did? She couldn't cope, she couldn't see a solution to the problem, so she ran away.

She managed to make it all the way to a park bench before the colors faded completely. Reality hit hard. It was gray, it was suffocating, it hurt! She didn't want to be a part of it! She couldn't handle it!

But reality would not be denied. It settled on her like a layer of soot, hot and oppressive. She collapsed on the bench and pulled her knees to her chest, willing the colors to return to her. She needed them! She needed them!

No matter how hard she pleaded, the colors did not answer her.

The first day she slept.

The second day, she stared at nothing and everything at the same time.

The third day she couldn't stop shaking.

The fourth day she tried to force herself to stop breathing so she would be granted the peace of dying.

The fifth day she cried.

The sixth day…the sixth day was…different.

"You've been sitting there not moving for six days now. You're pretty resilient for a bum."

She didn't look up at the sound of the voice. In the past few days, people had tried to talk to her, but she had ignored them all; if they couldn't bring back the colors she wanted nothing to do with them.

"…You really don't move at all, do you? How the hell do you manage to get food?"

This person was resilient; all others had given up by this point. The girl lifted her head to see a young boy looking down at her. He had spiky blonde hair that stuck out at odd angles and large blue eyes that better fit with a child than a young man. He looked to be about high school age. Without the assistance of drugs or alcohol or making love, he was just as dull and uninteresting as the world that surrounded him.

"So you can move," He commented as he gave a toothy grin.

Luka looked down once more.

"…You are the most bizarre hobo I've ever met," The boy commented casually before Luka felt the distinctive feeling of him sitting on the bench next to her. She remained perfectly stationary, neither drawing closer to the young boy nor drawing away from him. The two of them settled into silence as Luka listened to him rummage for something in the backpack that had been slung on his shoulder mere moments ago.

"Here," He said after a few moments. Luka stared dully at the object he was holding out to her.

It was a piece of plain white bread.

"I would offer you more," The young man said, sounding almost embarrassed, "But I've got to eat something for lunch at school today."

Without a word, Luka took the bread into her hands and stared at it for a few moments. It was plain and boring; perfectly ordinary like the rest of the world around her. She took a bite of the bread and chewed it slowly, allowing her pallet to judge the flavors.

"…It tastes terrible," She finally said after she finished swallowing.

"It's not the best," The boy commented, "But at least it's food. You've got to appreciate what you've got."

Luka wanted to tell him how the bread was barely passable as food. After all the delights gained through love-making, alcohol, and drugs, the bread tasted like cardboard. Unlike the drugs, it didn't promise a day full of carnival rides and colors. It was plain, it was boring, it didn't make the pain go away. It was everything she hated about the world.

_You've got to appreciate what you've got._

"…Yeah, it's food…" Luka agreed dully before she took another bite of the bread.


End file.
